Burn Me Down
by Midnight Spiral
Summary: Roy has to hunt down a talented freelance alchemist who could secure his promotion...And she's not having any of it. Battle of wills.


**A/N: I'm back, with a short FMA one-shot involving my OC, Quinn, and Mustang, and how it got all angsty-love/hate between them. Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its characters or plot lines. **

**-oOOo- **

She realized now that running was not the best plan to keep her alive. Keep her free, yes. For a while. But they would catch her eventually-they always did-and then they would have to kill her. Because she couldn't be trusted not to run.

But 'free' was all she had ever been, all she could ever be-who else would dare to command the atmosphere with alchemy? All the alchemists she'd ever known, ever heard of, kept their science to solid and liquid elements, with only a few notable exceptions stepping outside their sandbox to take some gaseous elements for their fire or water. As far as she knew, she was the only one who dealt almost exclusively in gaseous elements. Alchemy was tricky to begin with; why complicate things with ingredients that couldn't be trusted to stay in range? Why risk a trip to the Gate for something so small?

She leaped the gap between two buildings, smirking in spite of herself- _They'll have to go around that one, poor bastards. _

Because few could do it, and she had the knack. Weather (and other atmospheric conditions) were usually caused by variations in density from one location to another. Density in this case referring to temperature and moisture. Broken down as such, it made more sense. Move some elements to manipulate either factor and bam!-you've got it, from tornados and hurricanes to a nice hard blast of air to propel you further than you can leap alone. She didn't see where the difficulty lay. Which, apparently, made her something akin to one in a million, and, as such, highly sought after.

Especially in this stupid country. She leapt off another building, clapping her hands to create a small breeze to control her descent into the narrow alley.

Fingers snapped at the dark end of the alley below, and a burst of flame roared past her, upsetting her delicate breeze. She fell, uncontrolled now, bouncing off the far wall and landing in a bloody heap. She'd never admit it aloud, but it was probably for the best that those who criticized 'atmospheric alchemists' didn't know how easy it was to disrupt the transmutations. Yeah. People thought it was dangerous enough without knowing about the nearly constant adjustment transmutations that went into something as simple as a breeze to cushion a fall. Not to mention the bigger stuff. Massive weather systems have to be perfect, with tiny adjustments, to avoid unintended catastrophe. And then there was the- _Shut up, brain, I know already! _

With a groan, she pushed herself to her knees, panting and gasping to force air into lungs suddenly cramped by ribs bruised, cracked, or broken by her fall. In between, she ground out curses, every one she knew and a few she made up on the spot, culminating in a venomous, "Gate-damned…bastard…Flame Alchemist!" At the last, she lurched to her feet, swaying unsteadily as she faced down her opponent. "How did you find me?" Enraged, she clapped, her own custom gloves providing the circle for her transmutation. As her attacker was pinned to the wall, she stalked forward. "How did you know which way I would go?"

His response was unnervingly quiet. "Quinn. How did we meet?" He seemed untroubled by the mass of air holding him to the wall, watching her curiously as she cracked her knuckles, just enough to activate the circles on her gloves and pin him there more securely.

She drew up short. "What?" He just stared at her. "I-I was new in town, and the woman who owned the inn suggested you show me around the city."

"And?"

"And you were a gentleman, and kind, and funny, and we went out a few times. This big city, all dark and scary, was starting to feel like home. You made me feel at home here…" She fingered the chain at her throat, then laughed derisively at herself. "Remember when you gave me this? And I said that that spot would always be my favorite place in the city." This time her laugh was bitter. "And then I screwed it all up. Again. I thought it would be romantic-to put out the lights and kiss you in the dark." And she'd put so much work into it, wearing a cute dress with long sleeves that almost covered her entire hands so he wouldn't see her fingerless gloves; since they usually walked arm in arm, she'd been reasonably sure he wouldn't feel them. She'd been so excited by the time they got to their candlelit corner of the restaurant patio…She'd clapped her hands together, exclaiming over how perfect it all was, and plunged them into darkness. Bold in the dark, she'd leaned over and kissed him sweetly, had been thrilled when he returned it. He'd breathed her name, a question, and she'd laced her fingers through his before letting their palms touch, the overlapping circles lighting up their niche once more. And he'd never looked at her the same again. "I became nothing more than a means to an end, didn't I, Colonel? Turn the 'atmosphere alchemist' into a weapon of the state, and get that big promotion, right?"

"It wasn't-" He sighed, frustrated. "Anyway, it doesn't matter now. There's no way you can continue running after that fall. You have no choice but to come in now."

"Actually, that depends." She glanced at the mouth of the alley, nodding as she confirmed that it was in fact near the spot she'd named as her favorite, all that time ago. _Sloppy, Quinn._ "How much backup did you bring along?"

"I came alone. Why?"

Quinn glanced up at the sky. "Because unless there's another alchemist like me around, actively working to counter just about every transmutation I've done in the last two days, it'll be pouring in about five minutes. Give or take."

He raised his arms, fingers ready. "Don't make me hurt you, Quinn."

"I'm not making you do anything. I leave your free will intact." She turned, limping purposefully toward the street. "It's been real nice chatting with you this evening, Colonel."

"Goddammit, Quinn, don't you walk away. Don't make me hurt you." As the clouds overhead rumbled ominously, he roared, "I don't want to hurt you!"

She kept going. "Then let me go."

"Damn it all, Quinn, you know I can't do that!" He screamed wordlessly in frustration, drowning out the sound of his fingers snapping.

Quinn half-turned with a yelp as the fire consumed her arm, then fell to the cobblestones, desperately trying to smother the flames. _He actually did it! _She screamed in pain as the flames licked up her neck and face. She didn't hear the footsteps as Roy drew near, but she knew it was his coat that finally smothered the flames. _It smells like him…_As her rain poured down, soaking through the coat to soothe her burns, she had to stifle a cry of relief. Instead, she brought her good hand to her throat, yanking off the Flame Alchemist's gift and flinging it at his feet. Her eyes, simmering with fury, found his in the downpour. "I hate you so much."

More soldiers arrived then, confiscating her gloves and restraining her, ignoring her sobs as they showed no tenderness to her injuries. Within minutes, she was bundled into a van and taken away, leaving Roy alone in the alley.

Roy knelt, picking up the charred necklace. He gazed up at the dark clouds overhead. "I know."

**-oOOo- **

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